


Sweet chaos

by subak_jumokbap



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Minor Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le, Older brother Mark, brothers marksung, chenji are cute, mark is a little dense, mark witnesses his younger brother's love life, worms for brain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25873450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subak_jumokbap/pseuds/subak_jumokbap
Summary: Mark swallows nothing. He tames the emotion in his voice. More calmly now, he asks, “What if I saw you differently one day and wanted more? Wouldn’t that be weird?”
Relationships: Mark Lee/Na Jaemin
Comments: 12
Kudos: 155





	Sweet chaos

**Author's Note:**

> markmin are the same age, chenji are the same age and two years younger

Jisung’s already all set and pack, standing at the foyer to put his shoes on. Mark is still drifting about the house trying to remember where he had put his tie and socks when they were in his hands just a minute ago. Mark hears the jingling of keys which means Jisung is about to leave, which by default is an indication that Mark should be about done and ready to leave as well. He has a bit of time to spare because Jisung always leaves first. The only reason they don’t go to school together is because Jisung walks to school with Chenle who lives two blocks ahead, and Mark walks with Jaemin, who lives just a block down the other way. It’s also most definitely not due to the fact that Mark is sloppy in the mornings and Jisung doesn’t have the patience to wait for him. Who needs a younger brother anyway. So while Jisung walks up to Chenle’s house to wait for Chenle, Jaemin walks up to their house to wait for Mark.

Mark manages to catch Jisung leaving the house just as he finds his tie on the kitchen counter. He grabs it and skids into the living room where his bag sits on the couch and stuffs it in. “Jaemin hyung’s already outside!” Jisung shouts. Of course Jaemin is, he has an infuriating habit of being early.

Mark pulls his socks up in a rush (they were hiding under his bag) and jams his feet into his shoes, not caring that his heels are stepping over the back of them instead of being _in_ them. He’s still barely awake as it is. He shrugs on his bag and throws his blazer over his shoulder and then he’s flying out of the house. The sky’s a cozy blend of pink, purple and blue and the sun is still too shy to come out, introducing itself as twilight for now. Mark would give anything to be able to turn back around and fall back into bed, but unfortunately he has nothing to give and only education to receive.

The air’s a little chilly and Mark does a quick yet clumsy work of balancing his bag while putting his blazer on, all the while trying to make it to Jaemin quickly without his shoes falling off. He knows he’s a little of a mess because Jaemin tells him all the time, but mornings are his enemy. Jaemin waits for him while sitting on the curb, his elbows resting over his knees and his phone in his hands. He has his earphones plugged in, as always, and his head is bent over where he’s scrolling through his phone. Mark huffs when he’s finally done struggling with his blazer and he squats beside Jaemin to deal with his shoes. Jaemin gives him a brief acknowledging glance before his eyes wander back to his phone as he waits for Mark to be done. When Mark is, Mark pushes himself off the curb, dusts off his hands and the back of his pants and stands. Jaemin stretches an arm up to curl a hand around Mark’s forearm and he uses that to pull himself up.

They start walking down the sidewalk naturally. “You’re faster today than you were yesterday,” Jaemin notes. His throat sounds dry and scratchy, the sentence probably being the fifth one he’s spoken since he woke. The revelation catches Mark by surprise. He thought he had been slower, he usually doesn’t have any problem finding his tie.

“Really?” Mark asks, his own voice cracking from the same lack of use.

Jaemin takes off an earbud and holds it out for Mark to take. Mark puts it in and Coldplay starts crooning in his ear.

“Nope,” Jaemin says, looking at Mark from the corner of his eyes, the slightest twinkle in them. Mark knows if Jaemin was more than barely awake, the corner of his lips would have slanted up as well. “I just wanted you to hear what it would sound like if you were early for once.”

If Mark was anymore awake too, he would have shoved Jaemin off the sidewalk but he’s not, so he settles with bumping into Jaemin’s side instead, just enough for Jaemin to stumble a little. Jaemin does, but he sways right back to Mark’s side, fitting easily and snugly, as if Mark’s body has been worn to take on a Jaemin-shaped indent. Their arms brush with how they’re keeping close because of the earphone wire but also because that’s how they always walk. Mark’s used to it. He takes advantage of the proximity to steal Jaemin’s phone out of Jaemin’s hands.

Jaemin lets him but once he starts insulting Jaemin’s music taste, Jaemin reaches over and fusses to get his phone back. He nudges Jaemin away and Jaemin settles with hovering over his shoulder to observe him messing around with the music, half of Jaemin’s chest pressed against his back. Mark puts on his own playlist that he’s made on Jaemin’s phone that Jaemin always threatens to delete but never really does. Jaemin’s hands come up to cover his and he watches agonisingly as Jaemin starts adding more songs he has strong feelings against. Jaemin chuckles, low and gravelly, at his outright objection and Jaemin, Mark suddenly realises, is really, really warm. He can feel the heat from Jaemin’s body on his back and he relishes sneakily in it, a welcomed relief from the chilly air. Jaemin’s hand slides down to gingerly circle his wrist and he blanks out for a moment until he realises that Jaemin’s gesturing for his phone back. He relaxes his fingers for Jaemin to take it from him and when he turns his head back to catch Jaemin’s gaze, Jaemin looks... he looks warm too.

“Now it’s fair,” Jaemin says meeting his eyes, keeping his phone safely away from Mark’s interfering hands. “A playlist of our shit.”

Mark’s lips quirk up. “Okay but your songs contribute the ‘shit’ part of the playlist.”

“Fuck off,” Jaemin bites, shoving Mark forward with his shoulder and because Mark is Mark, he almost trips over his own feet but because Jaemin knows him, Jaemin holds him back before he does.

Mark curls an arm around Jaemin’s torso and arm to lock him in place, but also because he wants to steal Jaemin’s body heat. When he shivers, Jaemin wraps a reciprocating arm round him the same way and he squeezes Mark to pull him nearer. Mark shamelessly snuggles in and as thanks, he doesn’t insult Jaemin’s music the rest of the walk to school like he had initially intended to. The sun slowly becomes braver and Mark and Jaemin try to wake up along with it, bracing themselves to deal with whatever hell waits for them at school. The usual routine.

—

It’s lunch break and Mark’s chilling with Jaemin, Donghyuck and Jeno at the school courtyard underneath the shade of one of the oldest trees in their school. Jeno’s leaning against the trunk, munching on his sandwich while watching a video on his phone. He’s unknowingly acting as the core they all gravitate towards. Donghyuck’s taking a sweet nap on Jeno’s shoulder while Mark’s head rests on his thigh. Because there’s nowhere else available for Jaemin, Jaemin latches onto Mark, using Mark’s stomach as his pillow. They’re a clump of gross, tired teenage boys with Jeno in the centre of it all. Mark had brought a book with him to read (yes he likes reading but it doesn’t show in his grades) but it’s currently serving to block the sun away from Jaemin’s face. Mark’s fingers are intertwined with Jaemin’s on top of Jaemin’s stomach as a result of Jaemin playing with his hand earlier before Jaemin had fallen asleep. Now Mark’s fingers are locked between his - Mark could pull them away from how Jaemin’s grip has loosened but Mark doesn’t mind. Instead, he thumbs Jaemin’s hand mindlessly; he learnt a long time ago that repetitive motions helped Jaemin fall soundlessly asleep.

Mark watches his surroundings idly, suddenly spotting Jisung on his right from the corner of his eye, walking through the school corridor with Chenle beside him. He always sees them together. He watches them, belatedly realising that Chenle’s almost caught up to Jisung in height. They’re watching something on Chenle’s phone as they stroll, their heads huddled together over the screen. Jaemin stirs suddenly, causing Mark’s book to fall off his face and it lands page-down on the grass. Jaemin’s lying perpendicular to the corridor hence it makes Jisung and Chenle directly in his line of vision when he opens his eyes. He mumbles it out to Mark.

Mark glances down at him briefly. “Yeah I’ve noticed,” he says, before returning his attention back to his brother again. He’s not spying on him per se, he’s just looking out for blackmail material, like what a brother usually does. For the lack of anything better to do, Jaemin watches as well, a hand muffling his yawn. Mark sees Chenle stopping suddenly in his steps and Jisung stops as well by default. Mark can’t see Chenle well when he’s being blocked by the pillars but Jisung’s expression turns into that of surprise and Mark assumes Chenle must have told him something. Chenle reappears into sight when he takes a few steps forward. He wraps a hand around Jisung’s wrist and a grin creeps up his face. Jisung dazedly gets yanked into a run, Chenle taking the lead with a wide smile and his infamous laugh ringing through the corridors. Jisung tries not to stumble over his feet, his face breaking into a smile after he’s recovered from the spontaneity. Mark thinks he sees the faintest of pink appearing on Jisung’s cheeks as he gets dragged to wherever it is Chenle is taking them.

“They’re cute,” Jaemin laughs under his breath, lifting his chin to the side to look at Mark.

Mark scrunches his nose at the comment. Jisung is his brother, he most definitely does not find Jisung cute, and he knows Chenle is as much as a menace as Jisung is. But if Jaemin thinks they are cute, he’s free to think so on his own. Mark can’t say he agrees. That’s what happens when your brother has been bringing his best friend home for over eight years now. Mark’s pretty sure Jisung finds Jaemin as annoying, so that should balance things out.

“You’re unbelievable,” Jaemin mutters, rolling his eyes away from Mark.

“I didn’t do anything?” Mark says, taking offence _._

_“_ Yeah, you just don’t know what _love_ is even when it’s staring you in the face.”

Mark slides his hand free from Jaemin’s and smacks Jaemin’s chest, a resounding thud echoing deep within. Jaemin makes a disgruntled face. Mark grins and puts his hand in Jaemin’s hair and messes it up the way he knows Jaemin hates.

“Fuck you,” Jaemin grunts, digging the back of his head into Mark’s stomach. Mark groans and tries to get Jaemin off of him but he’s moving so much that he’s making it painful for Jeno. Jeno shoves him completely off his lap while cursing him for it. Mark’s head lands on the grass with a thump and he scowls as he takes a hand to rub the back of it. Jaemin laughs at him soundlessly, a polite consideration for a sleeping Donghyuck.

Jaemin’s been shoved completely onto the grass as well in the midst of it all and he lifts himself up onto his elbows. He’s sitting by Jeno’s and Donghyuck’s feet and he pats his thighs to motion Mark over. He cocks his head. “Come on, just this once, because I’m nice like that.”

Mark squints at him. Jaemin raises a brow to challenge back Mark’s inquisitive stare. Believing that Jaemin isn’t up to anything sneaky, Mark gives in. He plops his head down onto Jaemin’s lap and grabs his book, cleaning the bits of grass on it using Jaemin’s pants. He shoves the book into Jaemin’s face and demands Jaemin read to him until their break ends. Jaemin snatches it, calls him bossy and entitled but relents. A little too easily, Mark thinks.

Jaemin flips the book open, holds it up against the sun.

He clears his throat. “Once upon a time, there lived a boy called Mark and he’s a fucking turd-”

Honestly, Mark should have seen it coming. Jaemin doesn’t get to finish his fairytale because Mark’s climbing over him and reaching up to get his book back. Mark struggles but he manages to snatch it away by leaning his weight into Jaemin so that Jaemin tumbles over. Jaemin topples onto the grass with a laugh because he’s pulled Mark down with him. Mark falls completely over him and he can feel the rise and fall of Jaemin’s chest against his own. Jaemin groans, complaining grudgingly about Mark’s weight. Mark doesn’t pay him any mind because the book is successfully captured in his hands. He lifts himself up and shadows his face over Jaemin’s.

“Fuck you, you’re the fucking turd,” he spits and it does nothing but make Jaemin laugh all over again.

Mark rolls over and settles himself next to Jaemin, their heads mushed side by side. Mark breathes deeply, trying to regain his breathing. He feels Jaemin’s finger grazing his mindlessly. The warmth of it hits him like a spark but it tames and glides over his skin tenderly right after.

“I _know_ my brother likes him,” Mark breathes out, staring at the blueness of the sky above.

“And? Do we like that or are we against that?” Jaemin asks harmlessly.

“Chenle’s cool,” Mark says, feeling Jaemin’s fingers fluttering subtly beside his and he hooks their index fingers unthinkingly. “It just feels weird to me. Watching my brother be all sappy. There’s something… I don’t know. It makes me feel weird all over.” Mark shudders and Jaemin scoffs at him.

“I’m pretty sure he’d feel the same watching you fall in love.”

Mark entertains the thought. Him falling in love? He doesn’t even know how to feel about himself falling in love, he can’t bring himself to think about how Jisung would feel watching him. How does one even fall in love? What if Jaemin fell in love? How would Jaemin feel if he-

“Would you feel weird watching me fall in love?” Mark questions, genuinely curious.

“Depends,” Jaemin muses, naturally hooking their middle fingers together in addition to their index fingers. It’s only a matter of time all their fingers will end up entwined together, like always. “I’ll have to see who you fall in love with.”

“Why?”

Jaemin breathes calmly. “I mean if you fall in love with a fucking turd I’m going to have to laugh at you because you deserve it.”

Of course, what was he expecting. He elbows Jaemin guiltlessly.

Up until the bell rings, Mark thinks about how it would be like if he ever fell in love. He thinks about how he’d feel watching _Jaemin_ fall in love. He imagines that it’ll make him feel weird too. But like a different kind of weird. Like…a he’ll-lose-his-best-friend kind of weird and he won’t know how to deal with it. It’s whatever, he concludes much later, when they’re strolling back to class with Jeno and an ever so sleepy Donghyuck. That’s a problem for a hypothetical situation that hypothetical him has to deal with. _His_ Jaemin is still his. 

—

On an extremely rare, once in a decade kind of day, Jaemin’s words, not Mark’s, fuck him by the way, Mark is the one sitting on the curb waiting for Jaemin to arrive. Mark turns his head just as Jaemin walks up to him in his cozy navy-blue hoodie, a look of surprised painted across his face.

“Is it my birthday today?” Jaemin asks, voice scratchy like how it always is in the mornings. Jaemin’s not awake enough to try for a smile but his eyes do it for him. Mark asks for a hand to haul him up which Jaemin offers. When Mark’s up and off the curb, he tugs Jaemin’s hoodie down over his eyes. Jaemin makes an affronted noise.

“Not your birthday, but your last day alive, maybe,” Mark retorts. They’re early for once so it’s no surprise that they spot Chenle and Jisung walking just a distance ahead of them. Mark’s playing music for them both on his phone, Jaemin sharing his earphones this time. Jaemin’s hand brushes against his occasionally as their arms swing monotonously like pendulums. Mark feels the heat of Jaemin’s hand washing over the side of his palm again and again like the tides of the ocean. Only that Jaemin’s ocean is warm, warm, warm.

Mark recognises the hoodie Chenle’s wearing. It’s Jisung’s. It’s definitely Jisung’s, it’s a little too big and it hangs off a little loose on Chenle’s shoulders. But he looks cozy. _They_ look cozy, the way they’re practically glued together, and how their fingers keep grazing each other’s… almost like.. a copy of.. Jaemin and him...? The thought baffles him immediately and he forces out a cough, brings a fist up to his lips and away from Jaemin’s hand. They’re not _exactly_ the same. They’re different, they’re not... they’re _different._ He sees Chenle turning his head to Jisung. Chenle says something and then he puts his palm facing up, as if waiting for Jisung to take it. Mark thinks this should be the moment he looks away but he sees that Jisung doesn’t grab Chenle’s hand. Jisung only blushes, nudges Chenle’s shoulder with his, says something back that makes Chenle laugh a little bashfully. The tips of Jisung’s ears colour. But so do Chenle’s.

“You stare at them any more you’re going to burn holes in the back of their heads,” Jaemin comments, his eyes on the sidewalk, barely open.

“I wasn’t staring, fuck off.”

Jaemin glances up at him, unimpressed. “Why do you care so much if they like each other anyway?”

“I don’t. I just find it weird.”

Jaemin lets out a tired sigh, telling of a conversation they’ve tread on before. “We get it, because he’s your brother-”

“No, I mean, yeah. He’s my brother that’s one thing. I’ll have to see him be madly in love with someone eventually. But also... it’s like, they were friends for the longest time. It’s just weird to see it all change to this. To see them looking at each other differently now.”

Jaemin shrugs. “Friends can fall in love.”

“I know that,” Mark retorts, accompanies it with an eye roll. He kicks the tiny rocks on the sidewalk to the grass at the side. “But suddenly? After years and years of nothing, there’s suddenly something there?”

“Is it that surprising?”

Is it? Mark thinks about it. He’s watched Jisung and Chenle grow up together in the time that he grew up as well. He remembers Jisung talking about Chenle after they met for the first time and he remembers seeing Chenle at their house the week after, and then the next few years. They were inseparable, like Jaemin was to him. But Jisung and Chenle are edging into something more now and Mark wonders if it was always there, subtle and gradual, only that he missed it all along. Could he really have not sensed anything this whole time he’s watched them?

He turns his head to meet Jaemin’s eyes, looks into them like he’s searching for something. Is it? Is it that surprising? He can’t seem to find an answer. He swallows dryly. “I don’t know.”

Jaemin snorts, shakes his head and rubs the sleep from his eyes. “I really don’t know what goes on in your brain.”

Mark really doesn’t either. It’s mostly empty, white noises, like those that old TVs make when they show a fuzzy screen of a channel that isn’t running any more.

“That’s because you listen to shit like this. Give me your phone,” Jaemin puts his hand out demandingly. “Play my playlist. Come on, I always play yours.”

Mark hides his phone away instead and he receives a retaliating smack to the back of his head. It hurts more than he had expected which makes him feel offended and he makes certain that Jaemin is aware. Jaemin barely reacts to his show of pain and persists on stealing the phone, managing to secure it into his own hands. He puts on his playlist that he made a long time ago. He pockets Mark’s phone in his hoodie pocket once he’s done and laughs at the scowl that’s still plastered on Mark’s face. His laugh comes out raspy. It always is in the mornings.

“It didn’t hurt that bad stop being overdramatic,” Jaemin retaliates but his hand comes up to caress the back of Mark’s head. His hold is gentle and his palm is notably warm, always warm, and Mark thinks so is the smile on his face.

Jaemin leaves his arm round Mark’s shoulder as they walk the remaining distance to school. When Jaemin catches Mark unknowingly bobbing his head to the music, he laughs, raspy and light and Mark curses him for it.

—

Mark and Jaemin are supposed to have dinner with Jeno and Donghyuck but soccer practice doesn’t let out until 6.30 p.m. which gives Mark and Jaemin slightly more than three hours to kill before the two are done. So Jaemin follows Mark home to hangout and they tell the other two that they’ll meet them at the Chinese place at seven.

Once home, Mark sees an extra pair of shoes at the foyer that he doesn’t recognise as his or Jisung’s. Chenle must be here. Chenle comes over as much as Jaemin does and Jaemin practically lives here. Mark notes that the living room is empty when he enters which means the two must be hanging out in Jisung’s room.

When he walks past Jisung’s room, he can tell that there’s something off if the sound of muffled sobbing is anything to go by. It’s worrying and he knows Jaemin feels the same because they’re both unanimously quiet at the sound of it. Jisung’s door is left slightly ajar, leaving a gap that allows just the slightest peek inside. Mark hears whispers and muffled noises as he walks closer, his heart beating nervously in his chest. He doesn’t mean to but he can’t help peering in - it’s only too easy to catch a glimpse inside. Jisung and Chenle are sitting on Jisung’s bed and Jisung seems to be holding Chenle in an embrace. His arm is wrapped around Chenle’s torso, his other hand holds Chenle’s head gingerly where Chenle’s forehead rests on his shoulder. The muffled sobbing comes from Chenle and Jisung strokes his back up and down while whispering softly to him. The sound of Chenle crying shatters Mark’s heart especially when he knows how bright Chenle’s laugh can sound. The unsettling feeling he feels hearing it means that Jisung feels a hundred times worse. Mark finds himself unable to move nor peel his eyes away. He only remembers that he’s intruding on a private moment when Jaemin’s hand touches his lower back and Jaemin nudges him gently to move along. Mark turns his head back briefly, sees Jaemin looking at him. Jaemin conveys assurance through his eyes and Mark holds on to it, trusting Jaemin’s intuition. He nods meekly and moves.

Jaemin closes Mark’s door silently, standing wearily behind it once they’re both inside.

Mark sits at the foot of his bed, throws his bag onto the floor, Jaemin’s soon tumbling to accompany his.

The image of Jisung comforting Chenle is still playing through his mind. He’s seen them fight and make up countless of times but this was different from all those times before. It might be the way Jisung was holding Chenle protectively, or the way Chenle allowed himself to be completely vulnerable in Jisung’s arms. Or just the way they looked in that moment. The amount of care Jisung exuded was nothing Mark has ever seen from Jisung before. It’s so strange to see how Jisung and Chenle have come to this.

Mark breathes out heavily. He looks up to Jaemin who’s still lingering by the door. “What do you think happened? Do you think Chenle’s alright?”

Jaemin runs a hand through his hair, shrugs helplessly and lets his hand flap down to his side. “I don’t know. I know you’re worried and you want to help, but we shouldn’t meddle in this kind of things,” Jaemin eyes him knowingly and his gaze softens understandingly. “Besides, it looked like your brother could handle it.”

“He did, didn’t he?” Mark asks quietly.

“It’s good they have each other though, don’t you think?”

Mark gathers his hands into his lap and answers only after a few beats. “Yeah, I guess.”

“What?” Jaemin asks, padding silently to Mark’s bed and making himself comfortable. He occupies a large space of it, arms beneath his head, foot crossed beside where Mark sits. He exhales deeply, fatigue flowing out with it. “Is it still weird to see your brother become all gross with his best friend of a hundred years?”

“Don’t you think it’s weird to look at your best friend of forever and realise you want something to change between the two of you?”

Jaemin sighs, his voice coming out in a mumble. “Why do you think everything is weird?”

Mark turns his head back to look at Jaemin. “What if one day _you_ looked at me and realised you don’t want this anymore? That there weren’t any feelings before and that now suddenly there is?” Mark’s pitch rises at the end, a betrayal to his attempt in hiding how much his thoughts have been affecting him.

Jaemin watches him, giving him his full attention. Jaemin’s only like this when he can sense that Mark’s head has been filled with loud unbeatable noises, his thoughts like pinballs shooting all around. This is the part where Mark spills everything in his mind in a verbal vomit and runs, and Jaemin will be there to catch him assuringly, tells him there’s nothing to be afraid of. When Mark’s mind is fogged over with doubts and he starts drifting away with them, Jaemin is the one that anchors him back down; his only source of calm in chaos.

Mark swallows nothing. He tames the emotion in his voice. More calmly now, he asks, “What if I saw you differently one day and wanted more? Wouldn’t that be weird?”

Jaemin presses his lips into a thin line. “Why are you having a breakdown about this?”

He doesn’t know. It feels like he’s scared, but he doesn’t know what he’s scared of. “I don’t know. It’s just, I’ve been thinking about this and I can’t wrap my head around it.”

Jaemin looks at him silently before his eyes stray away to stare at the ceiling. Jaemin takes a deep inhale. “There’s no right way to _feel_ about something. If you think it’s weird, it’s weird. If you think it’s chill, then it’s chill. You don’t have to fight what you feel.” Jaemin breathes steadily. “I wouldn’t find it weird. I’d just embrace it, I think. If I somehow unfortunately caught feelings for you.” Jaemin nudges him with his feet. “What would you do?”

Mark shrugs half-heartedly. He’s never really thought of a hypothetical situation where he catches feelings for Jaemin. Jaemin’s his best friend, why would he think Jaemin any other way? “If I liked you, it would shift so many things between us. I like the us now,” he says genuinely.

He sees Jaemin blinking awkwardly at the ceiling and he suddenly feels stuffy, heat creeping up his back and his neck. “But this is all hypothetical! God dammit Jaem, shut the fuck up!”

“I didn’t even say shit! You’re the one who started this!”

“ _You’re_ shit,” Mark bites back. “Move, you’re taking up space.” Mark crawls forward to lie beside Jaemin, lifting and pushing Jaemin’s shoulder away, claiming a spot on his own pillow.

Jaemin flops back down with a huff and squeezes as close to Mark as possible. He’s warm like he always is but this close he’s impossibly warm, his heat swirling and filling in the little gaps between them. Mark doesn’t find Jaemin’s heat unbearable, he neverdoes. He likes it a lot and it’s the only reason he hasn’t rolled Jaemin away. Jaemin perches his chin on Mark’s shoulder, blows teasingly into Mark’s ear. His finger grazes Mark’s side unknowingly but Mark feels it and it’s fluttery and ticklish. Jaemin always makes him feel that way. It’s weird.

“You like the us now?” Jaemin says, his breath tickling the side of Mark’s neck. “You appreciate me? You’re soft for me?”

Mark squirms. “Jaem, get out of my face.”

Jaemin laughs and it goes straight into his ear. It tinkles bright and clear and Mark’s sure it’s going to echo is his mind before he goes to sleep. Jaemin’s always on his mind lately before he sleeps at night. That’s kind of weird too.

When Mark keeps squirming and threatening to throw him off the bed, Jaemin backs away with a yawn. “Alright getting out of your face. Set an alarm at six. If we’re late you know they’re going to get cranky.”

Jaemin turns on his side away from Mark and it’s like everything in the room settles and quietens with him. Mark sets the alarm, puts his phone on the table and rests comfortably on his side of the bed. He stares at the ceiling, trying to make himself feel sleepy. It’s suddenly weird now, having Jaemin beside him and not being engulfed by Jaemin’s heat. The sliver of space between them feels like a thousand miles and Mark doesn’t like it. It doesn’t feel familiar at all. He turns on his side and attaches himself to Jaemin’s back, immediately comforted when Jaemin’s heat seeps through his uniform and spreads over his chest. He reaches over and pats about gently to find Jaemin’s hand but Jaemin makes it easy by grabbing his. Mark breathes out comfortably, relieved at the familiarity, and snuggles his head into the back of Jaemin’s shoulder.

“Thought you told me to fuck off,” Jaemin says, his voice getting gravelly now that he’s slowly entering the limbo between conscious and unconsciousness.

“Don’t recall,” Mark hums, his eyes drifting closed. He fits his fingers between Jaemin’s easily and Jaemin holds their hands against his chest. Mark thumbs his hand softly, the way he knows will get Jaemin to fall asleep.

“Do you think they’ll be okay?” Mark asks quietly.

“Your brother and Chenle?”

Mark nods and realising Jaemin can’t see, he mumbles his response. Jaemin hums. “They’re best friends. They’ll be okay no matter what happens.”

“How sure?”

“A hundred percent.”

And because Jaemin is his calm in chaos, he holds on to Jaemin’s words, believes them with his whole heart. “Okay,” he says, his voice fading.

They fall asleep effortlessly and when Mark wakes to the annoying ringing of his alarm, Jaemin’s still ever so loudly warm beside him.

—

Jisung and Chenle are okay after that until a few weeks later and they aren’t anymore. Mark doesn’t know what happened. He sees Chenle alone in the school library when Chenle used to always come with Jisung. Jisung doesn’t walk to school with Chenle anymore and Chenle hasn’t dropped by their house in weeks.

It’s worrying because they’ve never not talked for this long. Jisung’s mood has been bleak the past weeks and no one mentions anything even though they can tell that Jisung’s pretending nothing’s wrong. Their parents have even asked Mark if there’s anything bothering Jisung at school because he just holes up in his room whenever he comes home. Mark knows it’s not his place to meddle but Chenle is Jisung’s best friend. Jaemin said best friends are supposed to be okay no matter what happens and although Jaemin speaks a lot of bullshit, he’s always right when it comes to things like this.

Mark decides it’s been going on for too long. After dinner, he knocks on Jisung’s door and enters after Jisung gives him the okay. Jisung’s sitting cross-legged on his bed, his laptop perched on his lap. He’s freshly showered and his hair is still wet but it’s drying. He barely reacts at Mark’s presence in the middle of his room.

Mark takes a tentative seat at the edge of Jisung’s bed.

“Hey,” Mark clears his throat to start off.

“Hey,” Jisung says back curtly, his eyes fixed on his laptop screen.

Mark peers over. “What are you doing?”

Jisung raises his eyes. “What do you want?”

Mark blows out a whistle. “Okay, straight to the point. I can do that.”

“Hyung, I’m busy.”

“Just give me five minutes,” Mark persuades. Jisung continues ignoring him. He didn’t want to resort to this but he utilises his big brother voice. “Ji, I’m trying to talk to you. Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Jisung exhales and closes his laptop shut. “What?”

Mark backs down but only because he wants to show that he understands how frustrated Jisung is about his situation. “You’re upset, aren’t you? About Chenle.”

“You have eyes, congratulations.”

Mark gives him a look, climbs fully onto his bed and sits cross-legged in front of him. “Ji, come on.”

Jisung sighs. “What do you want me to say?”

“Anything. I just want you to be okay.”

“We fought. It’s stupid, whatever.”

Jisung is deflecting and Mark knows if he lets this go on any longer, Jisung’s never going to make an attempt to make things right between him and Chenle.

“It’s stupid because both of you are making it stupid.”

Jisung makes a noise at the back of his throat. “You don’t even know what happened.”

“So tell me.”

Jisung groans, pulling on his face. He hides it behind his hands and mumbles his words into them. “It’s fucking weird to talk about this with you. You’re my brother.”

Mark thinks the feeling is mutual, but he puts his big brother pants on. “Come on, we can make it quick and pretend it never happened.” Jisung still hides, reluctant to speak. Mark presses his lips together. “I just think you shouldn’t let so many years of friendship go to waste. You still appreciate him, don’t you?”

“Of course, but it’s not that simple,” Jisung says, letting his hands fall to his lap. He meets Mark’s eyes hesitantly and he lets out a sigh. He looks tired, and Mark thinks a little bit lonely. “Let’s just say there’s a lot of feelings involved — and like — we just — we can’t seem to agree on things.”

Jisung winces right after he says it. “It’s complicated, please don’t make me explain it. It’s fucking weird telling you this.”

“I know it’s weird. But you have to let me help you.”

“I don’t need your-”

“Yes, you do,” Mark punctuates, giving him a knowing look. “Because if I don’t intervene I know your coward ass isn’t going to do anything.”

“You’re more of a coward than I am,” Jisung points out, offended.

True, but Mark won’t give it to him. “Right now? I don’t think so.”

“Hyung, please mind your own-”

“I only want to help you-”

“I kissed him, okay?” Jisung cuts sharply, his neck flushed. He’s not looking at Mark anymore. He’s _embarrassed_. It’s little awkward for Mark too to be talking about this between them but there’s no going back now. Jisung swallows. “I kissed him and he barely reacted. So I told him I was sorry and we pretended like it didn’t happen. But he was being so wary around me and it sucks because it’s _me_ that’s making him feel that way. So I’ve been avoiding him. There. Fuck.”

Mark absorbs it all in, watches how torn Jisung looks and it must really be hurting Jisung a lot because his breath is shaky and so is his voice. And it makes Mark want to make everything okay for him. He’s never seen Jisung care so much about someone.

“Fuck, I thought he liked you.”

“You’re just saying that,” Jisung mumbles.

“He blushes around you all the time,” Mark deadpans.

“I don’t know,” Jisung says weakly, his shoulders sagging and weighing him down. “It doesn’t seem like he wants to talk about it.”

“But have you tried? Talking to him?”

“No, I told you, he’s _pretending_ that nothing-”

“Oh, fuck that bullshit,” Mark cuts him off. He holds Jisung firmly by his shoulders and stares straight at him. “You have to face this head on. Call him now and talk to him. Tell him everything. If he cares, he’ll listen. And I know he cares. Maybe he’s just a little confused. Maybe he just needed to figure himself out and you’re not trusting him enough.”

“What if he hangs up? Or what if he doesn’t _like_ me-”

“Do it,” Mark presses. “It surely can’t make things worse than it already is, right?”

Jisung sighs because he knows Mark is right. They’re not talking currently and there could be nothing worse to happen to them. Jisung looks at him warily. “If it does get worse, you’re taking responsibility for everything in my life for as long as I live.”

“I’ll just murder you and cut your life short,” Mark retorts. He ruffles Jisung’s hair and Jisung scrunches his face in feigned annoyance. “Just call him, okay? Trust me.”

“Whatever,” Jisung murmurs. Mark gets off the bed, gesturing a phone with his hand to to his ear as he walks towards the door. Jisung watches him, unimpressed. “Close the door on your way out.”

Just before Mark does, Mark catches Jisung biting the inside of his cheeks and staring down at the phone in his hands. He trusts that Jisung’s much less of a coward than he is, even if it bruises his pride a little.

—

The call does miracles. Chenle and Jisung get back on their usual agenda and fast forward a week, Chenle’s hanging out at their house again like nothing happened between them. As always, Jaemin’s here too because he’s bored and Mark’s bored and they decided being bored together is better than being bored alone. They’re lying on the large plush rug in Mark’s room, a space grey colour that Mark really liked a few years back and still does. A pillow is shared beneath their heads and Mark can’t remember why they chose the floor instead of the bed. But the rug is soft and comfy and Jaemin is beside him, warm as always, so Mark doesn’t really mind.

They’re playing Fun Run on their phones for the nostalgia and because Mark lost thrice in a row, he has to go get them drinks from the kitchen. He makes it a point to kick Jaemin’s ass before he leaves.

When he gets outside, he sees Chenle and Jisung standing at the front door, half of Chenle’s body blocked by Jisung’s. It looks like Chenle’s leaving but not just yet from the way they’re talking and stalling in the doorway. Mark leaves them be for fear of interrupting them and mindlessly goes about his way. He grabs two cans of cola from the fridge and when he comes back out, his heart almost tumbles out of his chest and the cans almost drop from his hands. Chenle is leaning into Jisung’s space and Jisung closes the distance between them. Just like that, they’re kissing, _kissing_ , in the doorway. Jisung brings a hand up to hold Chenle’s jaw tenderly and Chenle’s hand cradles the back of Jisung’s neck. Mark swivels quickly and rushes back silently to his room. He shuts the door soundlessly and leans against it, feels his heart hammering against his ribcage. Jaemin sits up from the floor at the dramatics of his entrance and eyes him weirdly.

“Was getting drinks that much of an adventure?”

“Holy shit,” Mark breathes out, meeting Jaemin’s eyes with grave seriousness. “I need to bleach my fucking eyeballs.”

“Sounds fun, but why?”

Mark walks forward and flops down on the rug in front of Jaemin. Jaemin grabs a can. “I saw them kiss.”

Jaemin widens his eyes and he breaks out into a laugh watching the graveness of Mark’s expression. He leans back against Mark’s bed, clutches weakly at his stomach.

Mark kicks his shin. “Fuck, it’s not funny! You asshole!”

Jaemin calms, cracks his can open and takes a gulp. He makes a face when the fizz burns his throat. He gestures his can around. “Aren’t you glad though? You were really worried about them.”

“I am but that shit was traumatising. Imagine seeing your brother kiss.”

“Imagine having a brother.”

“Imagine being you.”

“Fuck you,” Jaemin says, taking another sip. He eyes Mark curiously. “So, you still think the whole thing is weird?”

“Seeing my brother kiss? Hell yeah.”

“No, dumbass. About liking someone you’ve thought of as a friend since forever.”

“I mean, kind of?” Mark says finishing his can and twisting his body back to aim at the bin beside the door. He misses. Jaemin scores. Fuck him.

He twists his body back around, crosses his legs. “But it’s kind of nice, I guess. To have that with someone who’s meant something to you your whole life.”

Jaemin narrows his eyes at him. “It’s nice but you think it’s weird.”

Now Jaemin’s just making his words sound like they don’t make any sense. He struggles to express it in another way. “Well, I think it’s becoming less weird watching them.”

“So you might be okay with it?” Jaemin asks genuinely. His eyes are careful and there’s no sign of tease in them. Jaemin’s being sincere and it’s strange because Mark doesn’t understand why he’s asking so seriously. If Jaemin is trying to make fun of him then this is the wrong way to go.

“Maybe,” Mark answers cautiously. “Why?”

Jaemin hums, pondering. Resolutely, he says, “Come here a sec.”

“Where?”

“ _Closer_. I swear to god, it’s so hard to get through to you. Worms for brain.”

Mark makes a face, displeased. “Just for saying that, I will _not_ come closer.”

Jaemin exhales exasperatedly. “Okay _fine_. I’ll come to you then.”

Mark shrugs and sings, “Whatever.”

Jaemin takes in a deep breath to tame the annoyance building inside. “I don’t even know why I’m going to do this. You are such a pain to deal with.”

Jaemin walks on his knees until he’s in front of Mark. Mark looks at him, his brows knitted together. Jaemin is positioned directly under the ceiling light and it makes his shadow drape over Mark. Jaemin carefully puts his left hand on Mark’s shoulder. It’s extremely gentle and Mark feels the urge to ask Jaemin what’s going on but he finds himself unable to speak as Jaemin gazes silently into his eyes. Jaemin looks a little nervous and Mark doesn’t know how to take it. He feels the heat of Jaemin’s palm kiss his skin through his uniform where it rests on his shoulder. Jaemin’s other hand comes to hold his jaw, warm and delicate. Mark swallows dryly. Jaemin gingerly tilts his face up and he finds himself staring into the oceans within Jaemin’s eyes, trying to understand, trying to find shore where it’s safe.

Within a split second, Jaemin’s face is all he sees. Jaemin leans in closer and his heart starts hammering loudly in his chest. The last thing he sees before he closes his eyes shut and the first thing he feels when he’s engulfed in darkness is Jaemin’s lips. His thoughts become muted all at once and he’s trembling. But Jaemin is gentle and careful and he trusts Jaemin despite not knowing what to do. Jaemin’s breath is warm on his face, his fingers warm on his jaw. Jaemin’s warmth is just everywhere; it washes over him and tries to coax him to relax. Jaemin presses lightly against his lips but doesn’t go any further and Mark doesn’t go any nearer. Mark doesn’t know what to do. His hands curl up into fists, his nails digging into his palms, and he’s holding in his breath from nerves.

And then suddenly the light pressure on his lips is gone. When he slowly opens his eyes again, Jaemin is watching him hesitantly. “Is it still weird?”

Is it still — God, he feels like an idiot. All this time — Jaemin felt — and he just kept on going about how _weird_ — Jaemin just _listened_ without any —

God, _Jaemin_.

Mark searches Jaemin’s eyes, swimming frantically through the vast oceans within them to get to the Jaemin that’s been concealed by successions of wave after wave to keep Mark away. The waves suddenly tame themselves and Jaemin allows Mark to see the truth in full clarity. Mark’s left helpless as he gazes into Jaemin’s eyes, sorry that he hadn’t known all this time. Jaemin’s gaze softens understandingly and the immense guilt Mark feels is horrible. His breath gets stuck in his throat and he desperately wants to say something to Jaemin, to make it all right between them, but all words die in his throat before he can get anything out.

He circles his hand around Jaemin’s wrist that’s still on his jaw. His thumb presses into Jaemin’s pulse point and he feels how fast Jaemin’s heartbeat is.

“Jaemin-” He croaks out but no other words accompany it. All he can do is stare, powerless and regretful.

Jaemin lets out a shaky laugh. “Fuck, you’re saying my full name.”

“No, Jaemin-”

“I should leave.” Suddenly Jaemin is standing and moving around Mark’s room collecting his things. Backpack slung on one shoulder and hoodie in one arm, Jaemin reaches for the doorknob but Mark needs him to _stop._

“Jaemin, wait,” he says, scrambling to his feet, standing lost in the middle of his own room.

Jaemin stops, just a step away from leaving. His hand remains on the doorknob but he doesn’t turn it. He looks so unsure. He stares at Mark. “Do you still think it’s weird?” _To like your best friend of forever? To like me?_

Mark still doesn’t know what to say. Is there a right thing to say? He’s so desperate to say something yet he can’t and he feels like a fool.

Jaemin shakes his head meekly to tell Mark it’s alright, but everything feels wrong _._ Jaemin doesn’t meet his eyes. “It’s fine.”

No. _No_ , Mark has to try — say something — stop Jaemin from leaving — “ _No_ , Jaem, wait, please.” He’s desperate for Jaemin to stay, he doesn’t know why, but he is. He needs Jaemin to stay, for Jaemin to listen to him even if he doesn’t know what to tell him. Or how he feels. He just doesn’t want Jaemin to leave. He doesn’t want Jaemin to leave him.

Jaemin sighs and Mark’s so mad at himself for staying silent when his head is an uncontrollable mess of rogue noises gleefully torturing the hell out of him. Worms for brain. Fucking worms for brain.

Jaemin gestures weakly, eyeing the floor. “Mark, it’s fine. I know you don’t want things to change between us. I don’t want that either. You said it was nice watching your brother and I just thought we could, if you know - if you like -” _me, if you like me._ Jaemin takes in a deep breath but he looks calm. He’s always the calm one between them. Mark’s always the one that’s stumbling about and bouncing off track and always needs a little help to get himself back together. Right now he would give anything to have Jaemin catch him once more like all those times before and tell him that he’ll be alright. But he can’t ask that of Jaemin, not right now. Not with them like this.

“Just, think about it, at least? If you thought the, you know-” _kiss, the kiss,_ “was nice, tell me. If it’s not,” Jaemin pauses and shrugs. He raises his eyes to finally meet Mark’s. His lips slant up to give a very poor semblance of a smile. It looks awful and unfamiliar. “Tell me anyways.”

Mark breathes, thoughts pinballing all over his mind, bouncing everywhere he doesn’t want them to and all he can manage to utter out at last is, “I like us now.” His voice is quiet but it trembles and his gaze shakes as he looks at Jaemin.

Jaemin’s eyes softens. “I do too. We don’t have to change anything no matter what happens. I’ll still come by your house in the mornings, you’ll still be a fucking turd. Just don’t pull a Jisung and start avoiding me.”

Jaemin watches him, waits for him to say anything else. Mark doesn’t. Jaemin doesn’t show his disappointment if he felt any. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll tell you,” Mark promises just before Jaemin opens the door. Because a promise feels like he gets to hold on to Jaemin longer before they have to leave this limbo between what they have now and whatever that will come inevitably after.

Jaemin leaves and Mark sits like a wilted flower on his rug, dealing with his own chaos, searching desperately for a calm. He thinks about the way Jaemin kissed him. Did he find it... nice? Did _Jaemin_ find it nice? Mark touches his lips. He curls up on his rug and closes his eyes. In his mind, he tries to swim past his own barrier of waves to get to where his heart truly lies. He’s not sure of what he wants the answer to be.

—

The next morning Jaemin is out on the curb, just like every other morning. Jaemin plays Mark’s playlist on his phone and they walk to school together like how they always do. Everything feels like how it usually is. Jaemin’s not acting weird about anything and neither is Mark. But Mark is more conscious now; about Jaemin’s movements, about how he touches Jaemin, looks at Jaemin. How Jaemin looks at him. He doesn’t want to give Jaemin the wrong hints, but he has to know what the wrong hints are in the first place — he has to know what he wants before he can tell Jaemin what he doesn’t. And that’s where his problem lies. He wishes someone could just guide him. His own voice is loud in his head when he doesn’t want it to be and when he needs someone to tell him what to do, his mind goes empty.

He’s known Jaemin since forever. He likes this — what they have, he likes them. They’re great like this and he isn’t sure if he wants them to change. What if they tried for more but it ends up being the wrong step for them and Mark loses it all? What does he do then when Jaemin isn’t within arm’s reach for him to elbow or shove or crumble into? It’s the reason why he’s hesitant to dig deeper and explore what he feels for Jaemin. He doesn’t want anything to change. He’d rather have them stuck in this limbo forever. It might just be his safest option yet because if he does end up losing Jaemin after this, this limbo will turn out to be his sacred haven.

While waiting for Jeno and Donghyuck to finish their soccer practice after school, Mark and Jaemin hangout in the library to do up their history essay. Jaemin’s admittedly the brains between them and he’s already done with his while Mark is struggling to crap out another four paragraphs before he can call it complete. Jaemin spends his time waiting by taking a nap, his head resting on his arms with his face turned to Mark, his essay hidden beneath them.

Jisung and Chenle are here in the library too, at a table a couple of rows in front. They’re sitting side by side and they’ve been whispering to each other the whole time. It’s cute if Mark ignored the fact that Jisung is his brother. Their ankles are secretly locked together and Mark only knows this because he saw it earlier when he bent down to pick up a pen he dropped. He can see clearly from where he is how Chenle’s hand rests naturally on Jisung’s thigh. And for some reason, his brain connects two unrelated dots, bringing his attention to the way his and Jaemin’s thighs are touching. His brain reminds him how comforting the heat he feels coming from Jaemin is. Mark tells his brain to give it a rest and focus on the essay. He taps his pen against his temple, trying to think of a few more points for his last few paragraphs. He watches Jisung lean into Chenle as he thinks, watches them laugh secretly together. It’s like they’re each other’s gravity - the way they’re always so drawn to each other. From this angle, Mark can’t see Jisung’s face but he doesn’t have to see a smile to tell that Jisung’s happy. Jisung just looks really, really happy.

He tears his gaze away from them to look down at his essay but his mind is not on it anymore. His mind isn’t that far away either, it’s on the fucking turd who’s sleeping soundlessly beside him. Mark sighs, putting a hand in Jaemin’s hair, stroking through it slowly, the way he knows Jaemin likes. He lies down on top of his essay as well, hiding the bottom half of his face behind his other arm as he takes in Jaemin’s sleeping face. He continues to finger softly through Jaemin’s hair, a heavy feeling making a home in his chest. He wonders what would make Jaemin look happy even when he isn’t smiling. Would Jaemin be happy if Mark wanted their now to last forever? Nothing more, nothing less, just them like this against time. Or would Jaemin like it better if they moved forward together? Would Jaemin be happy still if Mark didn’t want that?

_Give me an answer,_ Mark thinks, as he stares at the lines on Jaemin’s face, at the curl of his lashes. His palm rests at the back of Jaemin’s neck and the warmth that radiates off of it slithers through the cracks between his fingers. Mark moves his thumb up and down gingerly, feeling the small little hairs on Jaemin’s skin. _Fucking turd._ He sighs. _All you do is sleep here while my head gets terrorised by you and you don’t even know._ Mark breathes out, feels the moisture of his breath on his arm. _God Jaem, tell me what to do._

His eyes drift closed eventually without him realising and the next moment he is conscious of himself again is when he hears Jaemin calling his name. His eyes open blearily to Jaemin’s face, the last thing he saw before he dozed off, and also the first thing he sees after. His hand is no longer at the back of Jaemin’s neck, it’s resting on the table and Jaemin’s index finger is hooked with his.

Jaemin’s face is only inches away from his own. Jaemin speaks quietly. “Ready to go? Jeno texted that they’ll be out from the locker room in ten.”

Mark feels something clawing in his chest, notes the way his stomach twists. He swallows nothing and nods.

—

Jaemin comes over on Saturday because he’s bored and Mark’s bored and they don’t actually need a reason to hang out. They always do.

“Because we’re losers who don’t have friends.”

“No,” Mark counters. They’re lying on the rug again, one pillow two heads, Fun Run for the nostalgia. Both of them have their arms raised in front of their faces with their phones in their hands. Mark frowns when his character gets struck by lightning. “We have Jeno and Hyuck.”

“Do we? Then why aren’t they here?”

“They said they’re watching some senior’s soccer match.”

Jaemin scoffs. “They’re assholes if you ask me.”

“And me?”

Jaemin wins and Mark lets his phone fall at a safe height onto his chest, feeling numb about his lost because that’s the fourth one in a row.

“You’re not so bad,” Jaemin says with a pleased exhale as he sits up and stretches over his legs. Four victories do much to swell his pride. “A little dumb but I guess your lack of intelligence is your charm.”

“You,” Mark says watching him while still lying down, “are full of shit.”

“But I’m the most decent among us,” Jaemin turns back to grin at him.

Mark pounces onto Jaemin’s back without warning, causing Jaemin to bend over from bearing the burden of his weight. Mark hangs over Jaemin’s shoulders, sticking stubbornly when Jaemin tries to shake him off. Jaemin grunts and tries to elbow him but Mark holds dearly onto his chest, refusing to let go.

“Fuck off!” Jaemin grits out and Mark hears it as a _you win_ so Mark relaxes his hold, his arms hanging loosely on the sides of Jaemin’s neck. Jaemin’s bent over such that Mark is elevated a little of the ground, his knees lightly grazing the rug.

“You’re so heavy,” Jaemin grunts.

But Mark doesn’t hear it. Because his right arm is hooked in front of Jaemin’s chest and his palm is splayed over it. And he can feel Jaemin’s heartbeat beating fast under his hand, so fast that Mark doesn’t know what to say. Because he realises terrifyingly that it matches his own heartbeat as well.

What is this supposed to mean?

“Mark? Hey, you okay?”

Mark blinks. He presses his palm into Jaemin’s chest, above where Jaemin’s heart is and he feels the moment Jaemin registers that he is feeling the beat of his heart. Secrets spill out without words exchanged; two boys and their racing hearts. Jaemin gently pushes Mark’s arm outwards to set himself free and Mark relents, letting him go. Jaemin turns around and sits on his knees, an exact mirror of Mark.

“Jaem,” Mark says absently, staring at him.

“Yeah, I know,” Jaemin says weakly.

Mark’s head spins and whirlwinds, thoughts running amok, bumping, mashing, ping-ponging all over the place. He doesn’t think he’s ever had his mind messy to this state. It’s dizzying, almost as dizzying as Jaemin’s warmth makes him feel and as soon as that thought pops up, it rises above all the others, quietening them down terrifyingly. They settle down obediently, and Mark gets it finally, _finally_ , his own piece of clarity. It’s almost ironical because it’s always like this, isn’t it? Jaemin as his lighthouse, his calm in chaos. It’s always Jaemin, even now. And it’s so startlingly clear that Mark wants to cry of relief.

Jaemin, his comfort above anything else. It’s the only reason Mark wants them to stay the same forever. But Jaemin also makes him dizzy - his warmth, his smile, even his stupid crude words - how they make him laugh because he knows Jaemin doesn’t talk like that to anyone else. Just him. And he realises that’s what he wants - he wants Jaemin to be with him in his tomorrows; no, not just as his best friend. Because if Jaemin ever falls in love with a fucking turd that isn’t him, he knows he’ll be miserable forever more. He may be dumb for a lot of things but he’s certain about this bit. Jaemin is so intricately intertwined in his life, how his presence sprouts in every little corner of every memory he has. Jaemin’s like a weed. Mark’s going to laugh. Jaemin is a fucking weed. Jaemin is a fucking weed and he doesn’t know how to be without him. He doesn’t want to learn to be without him either.

“No, let me just-” Mark says, putting his palm tentatively back on Jaemin’s chest right above his heart. It’s still hammering, just like Mark’s and fuck, they’re stuck together for life, aren’t they?

The only thing that keeps him from going mad with nerves is the way the warmth from Jaemin’s chest cradles his hand. The way it soothes him and tells him it’s alright. He swallows. “Can I kiss you?”

Jaemin blinks unsurely, his voice comes out nervous. “You want to kiss me?”

Mark slides his hand up from Jaemin’s chest to his shoulder to find purchase, and he uses that to pull himself closer. Their knees knock against each other and they’re in other’s faces, staring, watching and waiting. Their breaths mix, the shadow of Mark’s nose rests on Jaemin’s cheek. He realises that Jaemin still looks the same, close or far away, at nine or at eighteen. Jaemin still looks like his Jaemin.

He leans in and he hears Jaemin’s soft intake of breath when the tip of their noses touch. Mark stops there hesitantly; he’s scared but he wants it, he really, really does now that the prospect of it is literally a breath away. His eyes linger on Jaemin’s lips. His breath shakes when he whispers out, “Okay?”

Breathily, Jaemin replies back, “Yeah.” Mark closes his eyes, presses closer. He kisses Jaemin gently, the slightest of pressure because he’s wary. But then Jaemin smiles and Mark crumbles a little inside because Jaemin, fucking asshole, is teasing him about being shy. Jaemin’s hand wraps around his lower back to hold him steady. And that’s all the reassurance Mark needs. Mark pushes against him, and Jaemin sits back, no longer on his knees. Mark keeps pushing and pushing until they’re chest to chest and he gets the whole of Jaemin’s warmth engulfing him. It’s dizzying and fluttering and everything he likes about Jaemin. It makes him heady; the way Jaemin makes him feel when they’re together. Jaemin pushes back, licks the swell of Mark’s lips causing Mark’s breath to hitch, and then it’s a mixture of hot breaths, saliva and tongue. Jaemin holds him by his nape and his jaw while he touches all over Jaemin’s shoulder and chest. Jaemin’s so warm. Warm, warm, warm.

“Warm,” Mark breaths out into Jaemin’s mouth. Jaemin kisses him harder.

“What?”

They both pant into each other’s mouth, hands eager and hesitant at the same time. Mark just _wants_ Jaemin and he pulls Jaemin towards him by his shirt. It only causes Jaemin to topple forward and fall over him, knocking them both to the floor.

“Fuck,” Mark laughs when his head makes a loud thud upon contact with the ground. Jaemin holds himself up on his elbows but barely and he laughs, breathlessly, lips shiny, smile bright, eyes brighter. Their faces are the only things that are in each other’s sight. For that small moment they’re gazing into each other’s eyes, Mark trapped and pinned beneath Jaemin, it finally registers in their heads what they’re doing.

Jaemin smiles down at him because he knows they’re both thinking the same thing and fuck, Mark gets to have this in his forever with Jaemin now. Mark breathes in, breathes out, admires how dishevelled Jaemin looks, a work of his own hands.

“You said something,” Jaemin breathes out. Mark takes a hand to Jaemin’s jaw and traces down slowly, delicately.

“I said you’re warm. All the damn time.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah, but I fucking love it,” Mark says and he leans up the same time Jaemin bends down to reconnect their lips. Their breaths become ragged. Jaemin tugs his lips and he licks into Jaemin’s mouth and they kiss for the longest, sweetest time until Jaemin’s arms give way and Jaemin drops himself over Mark. Mark breathes him in, caresses his head where it lays above his shoulder. Jaemin turns his head, his lips intentionally grazing Mark’s temple, his ear, his hair and it makes Mark giggle, fucking _giggle_ because it feels like there are bubbles in his chest. It’s so delightful and humiliating.

Mark hums contently, hugging Jaemin on top of him until Jaemin adjusts them such that they’re lying on their sides faced towards each other and Mark is totally, completely wrapped up in Jaemin’s arms. Imagine, having this forever. Mark will go insane.

Mark closes his eyes and he hears Jaemin’s silent laughter.

“What is it?” He mumbles.

“You kiss me and you’re going to just sleep after all that?”

“You can sleep too,” Mark murmurs, his hand trailing down Jaemin’s arm to find his hand. Jaemin gives it to him. He slips his fingers between Jaemin’s and Jaemin holds their hands between their chests.

“It’s not weird,” Mark says, snuggling closer to let their foreheads touch. “That I like you, it’s not weird.”

“It’s not.”

“No,” Mark says, breathing steadily. He feels himself starting to drift in and out of sleep. “It’s nice.”

“We should talk about this.”

“We should,” Mark mumbles. Jaemin’s other hand strokes up and down his back. It’s calming and it lulls Mark deeper into sleep. He snuggles into Jaemin’s neck and Jaemin laughs. It’s so warm. Mark hums. “After?”

“Okay.”

“Just don’t go.”

Jaemin laughs again and Mark hears his smile. “Have I ever?”

No, Jaemin’s always beside him wherever they are and Mark tells him exactly that. And it feels good to know that Jaemin is staying with him unchangingly.

—

On Monday, Mark meets Jaemin at the curb. His weed boyfriend. He told Jaemin about it. Jaemin loves it, says it’s very them. They walk together to school as usual, the same music in both of their ears, their index fingers grazing. A few songs later, their hands are palm to palm, fingers intertwined. It’s nice, Jaemin is, liking Jaemin is, having Jaemin is. Whenever Mark does anything grand or grandly dumb or even whenever he’s doing absolutely nothing, he’s never been more glad that he’s doing it with Jaemin.

Things between them stay the same. Jaemin’s still a turd, and so is he and he still has worms for brain half of the time. But there are also new changes; like Mark gets to kiss Jaemin whenever and Jaemin gets to kiss him whenever, and they hold hands a lot more, and he gets to demand Jaemin for hugs. His favourite thing ever. Jaemin’s hugs are _insane_ , especially when he gets to fall asleep while being embraced in one. He can steal Jaemin’s warmth whenever he wants and without reason. It’s the best privilege he can ever ask for.

Mark likes their new ‘now’, he was scared before but he’s not anymore. The joke’s on Jaemin however because he ends up being the fucking turd that Mark falls in love with. Jaemin doesn’t mind, he likes being the one Mark falls in love with. Mark’s just grateful that he gets to experience falling in love with someone that has always meant something to him his whole life. He can confidently say it now that falling for Jaemin is most definitely not weird. It’s the best fucking thing ever.

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday jaemin!! Have a mark lee!!


End file.
